Confessions of a Teenaged Weasley
by La Trom Mi
Summary: Confessions of a Teenaged Weasley. Fairly self-explanatory. Rated "M" for potential naughtiness and whatnot. Companion Piece to "Veritas." 7th Year, AU
1. Confession 1

Disclaimer: The Weasleys don't belong to me, the Grangers don't belong to me, neither Draco nor Harry belongs to me, the Professors don't. .. . blah blah blah . .. . you get the point.

: This is a companion piece to "Veritas" :

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Chapter One 

Hermione and Harry won't let up. They keep telling me that I need to tell Ginny. I know that! I know I have to tell her and the rest of the family, I just don't know how. Ginny's the more important one right now. I mean, I love them all – except maybe that stupid prat Percy – but Ginny and I have always been the closest. If only I knew how she'd react . . .

I know I'm freaking myself out. I know that Ginny won't care, that it'll make absolutely no difference to her. I know this, but I can't make myself believe it.

Hermione was the first to find out and that was a total accident. I mean, we were dating at the time!

I love Hermione. I really do. For a while, I had convinced myself that I was in love with her. I told myself that what I feel for her has got to be true love and what I was feeling for him was simply respect. He was – is – a great Quidditch player. He's just awesome! He was captain of the team and a great Keeper. I haven't seen him in years, but, and I can admit this now, he was my first crush.

Anyway. As I was saying, My feelings for Harry and Hermione have always been strong. I knew I wasn't in love with Harry, he was like the brother I never had. I convinced myself that I was in love with Hermione because I had similar feelings for her that I had towards Harry, but she just irked me so much. We were constantly arguing. I know that doesn't make much sense, but you know how little kids hit each other when the like each other? That was the logic I used to convince myself. I know. It was kind of stupid, but what choice did I have? To admit the truth? At the time, the truth was not acceptable.

I dated Hermione for a couple of months and we did the typical couple things – write love letters, snuck out to find a private, cozy spot, kissed . . .

When I kissed Hermione, I felt nothing. It was nice, but I never got that warm, fuzzy feeling that I got whenever I saw Oli. Sometimes, when I kissed her, I would fantasize that I was kissing Oli and I would get excited . . .

Hermione that this was because of her, that all I could think about was shagging her . . .

Thinking about Oli would get me there, but I could never go through with it. I used to tell Hermione that I wasn't ready . . . I mean, I was 'ready,' but I didn't think we were ready to take that step.

Hermione believed me. I think a part of her was relieved. I knew that she wasn't a virgin, and that she didn't want to jump into sex too soon, because of a bad experience in her past – one that she refused to talk about. I believe that she was relieved, but after awhile, all of the excitement and let-downs started to tear us apart. We started fighting about it, about why I could get it up, but I couldn't keep it up. She became convinced that I didn't desire her, that I was shagging someone else. It was horrible. The yelling, the names we called each other . . .

After a month of this, we broke up. We didn't speak to each other, didn't look at each other, didn't acknowledge each other. It was hard. On both of us, I'm sure, but it just seemed to be harder on me. She was my anchor, my proof to myself that I was normal, that I liked normal things and wanted to do normal things . . . With her gone, all that went away. I couldn't lie to myself anymore. I knew I was the cause the problems. I was living a lie and couldn't tell her the truth. I was breaking the "Golden Trio" up . . .

Harry didn't know what to do. His two best friends, who used to be in love with each other, now couldn't stand to be in the same room with each other . . .

Harry tried everything to get us to talk, he would lock us up in a room for hours on end, make plans to do things with us and then disappear, he even tried to bribe us . . .

I wanted to tell them the truth. I wanted to tell Hermione why I couldn't sleep with her, and I wanted to tell Harry simply because he was my brother, but I didn't know how. I didn't have the balls to tell them . . .

If it was up to me, they wouldn't have found out until I was ready to tell . . . then again, maybe it's better they found out the way they did, because they would probably still be in the dark about me . . .

On the day that she found out, she was looking for Harry and walked in on me and Dean. We weren't doing anything, just talking, but our conversation was pretty obvious. . .

Dean was bi, and had been pretty open about it. I couldn't talk to Hermione or Harry about my problems, so I turned to Dean. I felt I could trust him enough to keep our conversations to himself . . .

He helped me a lot. He helped me see that I wasn't some horrible, evil person for feeling the way I do. I was starting to be happy with myself, but I still wasn't ready to come out . . .

I never got the chance to tell Harry myself. Hermione got to him first. She thought that he had known all along, and that lying to her was a big game we were playing . . .

We continued to hang out a little, but we found other things to do to avoid each other. It wasn't until the end of the year that the weirdness went away . . .

It was actually Hermione who broke the ice between the three of us. She started to joke about me and Dean, saying that Dean was a good replacement for her because he was pretty hot . . . Harry pretended to be hurt that Hermione and I thought Dean looked better than him . . .

After that, I knew we were okay again. I was so happy that the "Golden Trio" was back. Knowing that they were weirded out because I wasn't honest with them, and not because I was gay gave me a confidence that I didn't have before. I no longer had to lie to myself or to them and I could be myself . . .

But I still wasn't confident enough to tell Ginny . . .

They both offered to tell her, saying that they understood that it was hard for me to do it. Even Dean offered, he said that, as my boyfriend, he was willing to do anything to make me happy, even if it meant facing my sister and his ex-girlfriend . . .

I don't know. What should I do? Should I wait until I'm able to tell her? Or should I let one of the others tell her? I don't know. If someone doesn't tell her soon, she'll do what Hermione did and walk in on Dean and me or hear it through the rumours . . .

I need some help . . .

What do you think I should do?


	2. Confession 2

Chapter Two

I know that I haven't talked to you in awhile, but I couldn't really face you. I mean, the last time we talked, you encouraged me to tell Ginny, you said I just need to relax and breath and believe that she loves me for who I am, not who I fancy, that as long as I remember that, everything will be all right.

I want to believe that. I really do, but it's so damn hard. After everything that Percy put the family through, how can I cause more disappointment? Mum just barely deals with him and Dad refuses to even acknowledge his existence. He'd probably have a heart attack if he even knew Mum was still trying to talk to him, either that or go after Percy for breaking her heart.

I don't know.

There's been so many times in the past few months that Ginny almost found out. Just last month she almost walked in on me and Dean. We weren't really doing anything – not yet, anyway – we were just snogging on his bed, but we were naked and things were getting pretty heated.

We heard Ginny and Harry outside the door talking. That gave Dean just enough time to throw the blanket over my head before the door opened. Dean told me that Ginny saw him in his skivvies hiding someone under the covers and turned bright red, almost as red as her hair. Harry later told me that seeing her ex-boyfriend practically starkers, obviously about to shag whoever was under the covers, was a sight she didn't want to see. She had no idea it was me under there. . .

I have to tell her. I know I do.

I will. Really. The next time I see you, she'll know. . .

. . . . maybe.


End file.
